Knit One
by imoosedup
Summary: Castiel gets a hobby.
1. Knit One

Dean had learned to expect the unexpected in life. Nothing was ever what it seemed to be. If you're wiring was acting up and your air conditioner was working overtime, it was just as likely to be a ghost as it was faulty wiring.

While he had learned that, he hadn't quite expected to find Castiel at the kitchen table with needles in his hands.

Castiel had nice hands, Dean had always known that. They moved with grace when he used his sword, they danced across Sam's old laptops keyboard as Cas looked for a case.

His hands were showcased while he was knitting though. Twisting the yarn around the needle, slipping it through the loops and tugging it tight, Dean swallowed.

"Dude, please tell me you are not doing what I think you're doing." Dean stood in the doorway, staring at Cas as he sat at the table.

"Alright, I'm not doing what you think I'm doing." Cas replied not looking up from his knitting. He was using large wooden needles to knit what looked like a grey blobby, _thing. _Dean didn't even want to guess at what it would turn out to be.

Dean sighed. "What do you want for supper?"

Castiel was never without his knitting nowadays. And there was only Sam to blame for that. When Cas had first fallen he had been twitchy, jumping at the slightest noise. Hands shaking as he sat on in the library. It was only when they were hunting that he really relaxed. But they couldn't hunt twenty-four seven. So Sam had taken Cas into town with him on a grocery run, when they had come back Cas had six different pairs of needles, (two of them circular) and five balls of yarn in varying colors.

Sam started buying better yarn for Cas. Not the acrylic stuff they had gotten before. The soft acrylic turned into super wash merino, Leicester wool, and soft worsted alpaca. Cas would correct Dean whenever he called his stash a pile of wool, saying that it was fiber, not all wool. Dean would roll his eyes and move the basket of yarn off the table so he would be able to work there.

Cas was getting better, at knitting and at being human. He still didn't eat as often as he should, but Dean would make sure he at least had something in his system before he went to sleep.

Cas' projects started taking shape, not just blobs of yarn or tangled messes, but long scarves and soft gloves. Sam started wearing hats, and Dean had taken to wearing the wool socks that had taken Cas a week to make.

It was now an easy thing to see Cas knitting as they drove to a hunt, he didn't have to look at his hands unless he was working on a harder pattern. Sam had found a knitting forum and set up an account for Cas, Dean would have to drag him from the computer some nights so he would get at least a little sleep.

Dean walked into the kitchen one day to find Cas balling a hank of yarn, it was thrown over the chair opposite him so that as he tugged it would slide down and up. The yarn was green, but when you got closer you could see different shades where the dye had not quite evened out.

Dean fingered it, something he had found he liked doing. He liked feeling the different textures of the fiber that Cas used. From the itchy wool to the unnatural smoothness of acrylic, Cas only ever raised an eyebrow at him when he did it.

As Cas tugged at the yarn it came off the chair in a tangle. Dean pulled up a chair and grabbed at the yarn. He had seen Sam helping out once, sticking his giant hands in the circle of fiber and moving his hands so that it came off more easily. Dean did his best to mimic how Sam had done it.

Cas stopped winding the ball to look at him.

"Not a word of this to Sammy," was all Dean said. Cas nodded and got back to winding.

Hunting in winter got better, Sam and Dean's hands no longer froze while hunting wendigos, it got a lot easier to tell the difference between it just being cold and the 'a ghost is here to kill you' cold. Dean was grateful that he didn't have to worry about getting frostbite anymore, but it was getting a little ridiculous. Cas had actually made a cozy for Sam's laptop. When Cas had handed Sam his laptop incased in a rainbow of fuzzy colors Dean had had to walk out of the room to keep from laughing at the horrified look on Sam's face. Sam still hadn't been able to get rid of the damn thing without hurting Cas' feelings.

* * *

Castiel liked the feel of knitting, the smooth motions of sliding the needles through the stitches. The faint 'click clack' as they bumped together, it was, nice. He liked it when Sam and Dean wore what he made, it made him feel useful. He hadn't been able to help them as much as he used to, so he did all he could to protect them still. He stitched Enochian sigils of protection into their hats, even if they didn't have quite the same effect now that he was human, they still would help keep them safe.

He had finally stockpiled enough yarn to try his biggest project yet, he was going to knit Dean a sweater. Castiel chose his yarn carefully, if it was itchy Dean wouldn't wear it, the same would go if it was eye grabbing. So he went with the softest angora blend he could find, it was a deep brown that Dean wouldn't mind. He paired it with a dark green that he had found somewhere, and he got to work.

Castiel didn't work on it where Dean would see, so that meant the library. Which Dean would venture into only if he was looking for Sam or in need of some book for research. Or it meant his room, which Castiel wasn't a fan of knitting in.

His room was the place where he slept, nothing more. He didn't spend more time in there than absolutely necessary. Staying there gave him time alone with his thoughts, which was the last thing he wanted. To many regrets to think about, to many nightmares that turned into reality.

Castiel worked on it almost nonstop, weaving sigils into the fabric where he hoped they wouldn't be noticed. He took breaks for meals and to hunt. Sam didn't question his time alone; he had caught Castiel working on it already. Dean didn't pry, although he started looking for Castiel when he had been out of sight for too long. He would drag Castiel out of his hiding places and bring him back into the bright kitchen. Castiel tried not to be too irritated about being interrupted; after all it wasn't like Dean knew what he was doing.

Finally, after two months of work, it was done. It was soft and warm. The sigils looked like a natural part of the pattern to the passerby, and even angels would have to look closely to be able to see them. He had even been able to put extra warding on it since there was more space to use.

If this fit Dean then Castiel would be able to use this as a base pattern for a sweater for Sam. But this was the tester; if this didn't work he would have to go back to the drawing board.

Dean was cooking breakfast when he heard Cas shuffling into the kitchen. Dean slid pancakes onto a plate and turned to see Cas holding up a sweater. It was brown with green woven into shapes. And it looked like it was just Dean's size.

"Dude, is that what you've been working on?" Setting down the frying pan he walked forward to squeeze the fabric. It was soft and felt warm. Dean kinda wanted to press his face into it and breathe in the warmth it held.

"Yes, would you like to put it on?" Cas sounded excited and nervous. Dean smiled, "Try and stop me."

He slipped it over his head, sticking his arms through the holes. It rubbed gently against the skin of his neck. There was no itching so that was a good sign.

"Wow Cas, this is awesome!" Dean meant it too, it was so soft. Not at all like some of the stuff that he had gotten from stores in the past. He smacked Cas' arm, "You get a pot of coffee cooking, I'll finish making breakfast." Cas beamed at him, setting about getting the coffee made.

Dean took the sweater off so it wouldn't get grease on it. It wouldn't do to ruin it when he just got it after all.


	2. Purl Two

The first Christmas in the bunker is also the first Christmas since the Angels fell and Heavens gates closed. And Dean wanted to make their first Christmas special, he and Sam had never gotten the Christmas that all the over children got. They were lucky if their dad was even there for it.

But this was going to be different, it would be the best Christmas they had or Dean would die in the process.

Dean had no idea what he would do. He was not one for giving presents, he was used to handing Sam a bag pull of porn and protein bars instead of carefully wrapped thoughtful presents. So he went to the only person he could think of who could help him. He went to Cas.

Cas was holed up in his room, fingers deftly knitting at what looked like a bag. Dean knocked softly on the open door before stepping in. Cas looked up at Dean and set his knitting aside.

Dean rubbed his neck. He really didn't want to go to Cas for help. It was hard enough admitting that he needed help getting Sam something, it was only made worse with what he was about to ask.

Cas waited patiently for Dean to speak, when Dean finally got it out he was surprised. He had never thought Dean would suggest it, but he agreed right away.

"No, Dean, stop that. You're using the tail again." Cas took the knitting from Dean, he started ticking back to the beginning of the row. He handed it back to Dean to start again. Dean took his knitting back with a glare at his lopsided scarf.

Dean had decided that knitting might just be the way to go with this Christmas. Sam seemed to like all the crap that Cas had made him in the past few weeks, and since he was practically a girl, he would go crazy over the fact that Dean made him something. It would be great, if only Dean could make the needles do what he wanted them to.

They kept slipping in his hands, dropping stitches and poking through the yarn. So his scarf was thin in some places, with holes you could stick your fingers through, and it was wide in other places. His gauge was off and he kept using what Cas called the 'tail' which he thought was stupid, it was just the dangly bit of yarn at the end for gods sake! The whole thing was frustrating him.

Cas showed him how to do the knit stitch once again, "It's a smooth motion Dean, slide it in, wrap the yarn around it and slide it back out. See? It's easy." Dean watched Cas' fingers closely. It looked so easy when he did it, he moved the needles confidently, his fingers never once slipped. Dean tried again, this time he got it right. Through the whole row he didn't make a single mistake, he held it up. He had five inches of utter crap and one perfect row.

"That's very good," Cas said when Dean showed him his one perfect row. "But don't you think it should be longer?" Dean rolled his eyes and got back to knitting. He was starting to enjoy it a little. He could see the draw of knitting; it was peaceful like Cas said it was.

By then end of the day he had almost a foot of painstakingly knitted scarf. He could still see where he had dropped stitches, but they weren't as close together as they were before.

"You're going to have to frog-it and start over I'm afraid," Cas said as Dean put it away for the night.

"Dude, what the hell does frog-it mean?" Dean looked back to where Cas sat on his bed.

"I read it on the sight that Sam showed me," Cas explained, rushing over the words in order to explain. "It's what you do when you rip your knitting. You rippit like a frog goes 'ribbit'. So people call it frogging."

Dean quirked an eyebrow, "Your site is weird, you get that right." Cas sighed and didn't bother answering Dean.

The next day was better. His stitching was more even and he only dropped one stitch, but he ripped it again once the day was done. He wanted it to be perfect.

Christmas was two days away when he finally decided that the scarf was ready. His gauge was still a bit off but you couldn't tell unless you looked for it. Dean had been knitting on his own for the last few weeks; Cas had gone off with the explanation that he had things to knit for Christmas as well.

They had a tree now, a real tree with decorations, sticky sap and that fresh pine smell that all the car fresheners in the world couldn't hope to duplicate. Sam had brought it through the door one day a week ago and set it up in the main room. When Dean had come in Sam had smiled at him with his cheek still red from the cold.

"So, what do you think?"

"It's awesome!" Sam had chuckled at his brother's enthusiasm and gone to the kitchen for a cup of coffee.

Dean slid the carefully wrapped scarf under the tree; he also slid Cas' present next to it. Sam and Cas had already put their presents under the tree. Overachievers that they were, they had gotten them back when there was still plenty of time. Unlike Dean who had spent the first week of November panicking about what he was supposed to get them both.

He looked over his shoulder, no one there. Dean let a grin slide across his face, he grabbed Sam's present for him and shook it next to his ear.

"Dean, put that down!" Sam's voice rang out from behind him. The kid had this superpower that meant that Dean almost never got to even guess what he was getting.

"C'mon Sammy, it won't hurt if I shake it a little." He wheedled.

"I'll take it out from under there and hide it if you even look at it again," Sam said with a glare. Dean sighed and put the present back.

"Spoilsport."

Sam grabbed his shoulder and hauled him up. "There's eggnog in the fridge, why don't you drink that instead of trying to ruin Christmas." He said, pushing Dean away from the tree.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Christmas day arrived, and Sam had Dean up at the crack of dawn. Sam bribed dean out of bed with the promise of warm pie and presents.

Cas was already up and sitting in the kitchen, his hands wrapped around a cup of coffee.

"You coming Cas? It's present time." Dean called from the doorway, motioning for Cas to follow him. They stood before the tree, with the bunkers main lights dimmed and the tree twinkling before them. It had to be the best tree Dean had ever seen.

Dean knelt down and Passed Sam his present, and passed Cas one as well before he grabbed one for himself. It was the one Sam had gotten him. It was rectangular and heavy in his hands. He ripped off the wrapping and held a hardcover copy of the complete Lord of the Rings in his hands. Dean grinned at Sam.

"This is awesome! Thanks Sammy." Sam smiled at him before ripping into his own gift. He held up the dark blue scarf and stared at it.

"Dean, did you make this?" He glanced from the scarf to Dean and back again.

"Yeah," Dean looked down at his hands.

"I love it." Sam said as he wrapped it around his neck. Dean handed him the present Cas had gotten for him.

Cas was holding his gift in his hands, still wrapped in its too bright paper. "It's not going to open if you just stare at it Cas." Sam told him.

Cas opened it slowly, sliding his fingers under the tape until he could just slip the present out from inside. He held a case for needles, they a set of were interchangeable wooden needles. Cas looked up at Dean.

"Thank you."

Dean fidgeted under his gaze. "It's nothing really." He handed Cas Sam's present for him. Sam had gotten him a book on bee keeping. Cas had ran his hand over the title and thanked Sam just as seriously as he had thanked Dean.

There were just Cas' presents to Sam and Dean left now. They ripped open the paper and stared in horror at what lay inside.

Christmas sweaters, garishly bright and wonderfully soft, Cas had given them each a Christmas sweater. Sam's sweater had a moose on the front of it, lucky for him that took most of the torso but the sleeves were covered in color. Dean's had splashes of red green, and oddly enough blue, with white as its main color.

"Do you like them?" Cas asked his voice hopeful.

Dean and Sam shared a glance. They spoke silently, with raised eyebrows and head tilts. They vowed that day never to tell Cas what they really thought.

"Yeah Cas, we love them."


	3. Drop Three

Dean regretted coming here, it smelled like animals and wet hay. He didn't even have a snack to make up for the fact that it was past noon and he hadn't eaten all day.

An alpaca snorted at him, Dean hoped that the thing would be made into hamburgers, but that seemed unlikely since this was a fiber festival. Seriously, the freaking thing was called a _fiber festival_, there was no way Dean was going to have a fun time here.

Sam had abandoned him to see a man sheer a sheep, Cas was visiting the stalls for more yarn. The guy had a stash that would fit in the trunk of the impala and he still wanted more. Dean couldn't begrudge him it though; Cas had spent his whole life without possessions, so what if he wanted a few of them now.

Dean still didn't know why he had to come along for this though.

"Please," Cas had asked.

"It'll be fresh air," Sam had wheedled.

"I'll get you fried flat bread." Cas refused to call them elephant ears because "They don't even look elephant ears, Dean."

Finally though, Dean had agreed to come. If only to stop the combined whining of Sam and Cas.

Dean leaned heavily against the fence holding the large animal and waited for either Sam or Cas notice he wasn't with them. It would take at least an hour for Cas, he would be to distracted by all the stalls to notice anything else. Dean estimated twenty minutes for Sam, unless someone started talking to him. Which, Dean guessed was likely, seeing as he would ask questions about how they made the wool into useable yarn.

_Nudge, nudge. _The alpaca was bumping its nose against Dean's shoulder. Dean glared at the offending animal, why couldn't it have left him alone in his funk? Okay, he wouldn't admit it to anyone, but the fuzzy thing was kinda cute. He ran his fingers through the soft coating of fur on its neck.

"A little to the left," it said. _Aw hell. _

It had taken Dean fifteen minutes to round Cas and Sam up. Ten minutes to explain the situation, and another five to convince the damn thing to talk again.

"Hiya fellas," it said, its voice was deeper than one might think an alpacas might be. Dean pointed at it in victory.

"See, I told you I wasn't crazy!"

"That remains to be seen." Castiel said as he approached the animal. "What were you?" He asked it.

"I used to be a cashier, now I'm a llama."

"Alpaca," both Sam and Castiel correct. It rolled its eyes, "Whatever. Anyways, I was a cashier in Indiana. I was at a different fiber festival there when this happened."

They listened to the alpaca's story as it unfolded. Apparently it had entered the animal barn when something had hit it in the back of the head. When it had woken up it had been a four legged fuzzy animal.

"So, you got Kuzco'd," Dean joked. If alpacas could glare, this one would have.

"I don't think I-'' Castiel began before Sam cut him off. "I'll explain it to you later. Do you have a name?"

"Gerry, do you think this is permanent?" It-Gerry, asked, fear tinged his tone. Dean and Sam shared a look, than looked around the area. Not too many people were around, but the few who were there would definitely notice if three men kept talking to an animal in public.

"We don't know, but we'll try and fix it for you," Sam hedged. He already had a few theories on what it could be. Witches were the first on the list, cursed object the next. But first, they needed to get Gerry out of there.

"Dean, cause a distraction," Sam said.

"What? We doing this?" Dean turned around and looked at the small crowd of people.

"The festival ends tonight, meaning that this evening the people who have Gerry are gonna pack him up and take him away." Sam explained to Dean, Gerry opened his mouth a few times before closing it.

Cas had spent the entire time staring at Gerry's face. "Her, Sam, Gerry is a her." Sam's head snapped to Castiel's.

"What?"

"I believe that Gerry is a nickname of some sort, am I correct?" Castiel shot the question at Gerry.

"It's short for Geraldine, are you guys going to get me out or not?" She asked irritably.

"Dean?" Sam asked.

"On it," Dean shot over his shoulder as he headed towards the sheep pen.

One well-placed kick had the pen fence falling, and the sheep were now milling about the people in the barn. Some sheep were beginning to panic. That only helped with the distraction, Sam and Castiel had gotten Gerry away to the parking lot.

Dean met up with them there when he realized there was a slight problem. They had taken the impala, there was no way he was letting some alpaca into his car. Cursed or not, he was going to put his foot down and stop this.

"Dean, come _on._ You have to realize you're being a tad bit ridiculous." Sam held onto Gerry's harness, something she did not seem to approve of.

"What if she pees on the seats Sam, I am not going to reupholster baby just because some bewitched animal can't control her bladder!" Dean pointed at Gerry. Castiel grabbed the finger and pulled, twisting it around until Dean turned to him. Tears were not in his eyes. It freaking hurt, okay!

"Dean, you are going to let this poor girl into your car." Dean opened his mouth to protest, but stopped when Cas tugged sharply at the finger he still held. "You are not going to say anything else on the subject until we have reached the bunker. Is that understood?" Dean nodded. "Good, now help me get her inside before someone notices there is a missing animal."

Cas sat in the back with her, Gerry was on top of him a little. It was uncomfortable for everyone involved, and it was a silent agreement that no one would mention this car ride to anyone. Ever.

Three hours, three hours of driving slowly down barely used back roads, because someone might see the freaking alpaca in the backseat.

Dean had never been so happy to see the bunker. How a hole in the ground could look like heaven he had no idea, but he was grateful for it all the same.

"Oh my God, you have a Bat-cave!" Gerry said when they let her in. Eyes wide she took it all in.

"Dean calls it that as well," Castiel told her with a small smile.

Dean and Gerry glared at each other, when all this was done Dean hoped she would get back to Indiana quickly. Sam rubbed his hands together, turning to Dean and Castiel he said "All right, let's do some research."

"Are you guys like the Scooby gang?" Gerry had her legs tucked underneath her, sitting in the middle of the library as Dean, Sam, and Castiel were gathered around a table, with papers spread out before them.

"No, we're much cooler." Dean told her, not bothering to look up at her.

"I got it!" Sam said excitedly, turning around he held a book in his hands. "Did you drink anything before you got knocked out?"

"Yeah, I had a cup of coffee," Gerry said slowly.

Sam turned to Cas. "Do you know if we have a cauldron?"

* * *

Twelve hours of searching through the bunker and they had the counter curse. Sam held a ladle before Gerry's nose, she sniffed at it tentatively.

"Are you sure this will fix it?" She asked carefully.

"Nope," Dean said happily. "But you can always stay this way forever." Gerry gulped before she drank the potion.

There was no fanfare, no crazy painful looking shift from alpaca to human, just a shift of light and there she was.

Gerry was a woman in her early twenties, her brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail, and she was wearing what she must have worn when she was turned.

She examined her hands, a smile spread over her face.

"Oh my God, thank you so much!" She hugged Castiel. He patted her back awkwardly until she let him go.

She stayed with them for one more day, to make sure that the spell was truly off her. Sam said that it probably wasn't meant for her, it was most likely just a harmless spell that someone had meant for their friend. He didn't tell her that he and Dean planned to set out and find the caster.

They took her to town and left her with enough bus fair to get back home. She waved goodbye to them, in a much better mood now that she had opposable thumbs.

They watched the bus roll away from the stop. Dean bumped his shoulder against Castiel's.

"Can we never go to another fiber fair again?" He asked, still watching the bus.

"I think it would be best to avoid them in the future." Cas agreed.

* * *

A/N

So, after the new episode I might have been in need of a stupid little thing to make everything better.. So this popped out. I offer this chapter of nonsense as a consolation for all the hubbub.

Peace.


End file.
